


Into The Night

by herainab



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-21
Updated: 2015-06-21
Packaged: 2018-04-05 11:03:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4177401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/herainab/pseuds/herainab
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I remember hearing your voice. It was like I was locked somewhere, trying to get out and reach your voice. The closer I got to waking up, the closer your voice was."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Into The Night

My footsteps are quiet down the hallway of the hospital floor. It was eerily quiet in this part of the hospital. But I didn’t mind the quiet of the wing. I liked to work in quiet. A large coffee in my hand, getting used to the nightshift was hard after having been graced with dayshift for two years as an at home caretaker.

Working in the hospital was different than being in a person’s home. Especially since my last patient was responsive.

They though nicknamed this part of the wing as the vegetable patch. Their characterisation was correct but awful. These patients were in a comatose state being watched round the clock by nurses and caretakers and family. I had only started three days ago and to my dismay had overheard the orderlies talk about the patients as vegetables.

In my three days I had no bad word to say about my patient. I had fallen in love with being a caretaker. And with my new patient, I had a feeling of hope which was unexplainable to my friends who questioned my choice of profession. This patient was my first comatose patient and I couldn’t describe the feeling of seeing him every day.

I had been hired by the patient’s brother. He was the only family left and had all but given up that his brother would ever wake. I had known the family briefly. The patient had been a classmate for a few years. We hardly spoke during our schooling but his brother assured me I’d be the next best person if he couldn’t be there. He lived on the other side of the country also which limited his visits especially with his young family.

Despite telling me I could work the day hours, I much preferred the night shift. It was quiet and I honestly had trouble sleeping at night. The brother made my pay double time during the nightshift and generously offered me benefits the family before hadn’t.

Visiting hours would be over soon in the wing. Some patients had family members constantly. Some patients had family who had given up on them or no family at all. The only interaction most of them had was with nurses and orderlies.

The nurses were also changing shifts. Large coffees in hands and junk food filled with lots of sugar and their kindles to entertain them in between rounds. Johanna, a nurse who had filled me in about my patient sat perched on the nurses’ desk nursing an extra-large coffee and a bag of potato chips on her lap as she read a trashy magazine, hardly listening to Finnick, another nurse I had met just yesterday. He was tall, bronzed and had the physic of a Greek god and made up for the characterisation of male nurses portrayed in popular culture. The ones you’d fantasy about and hope to have visiting the hospital. He had many patients swooning and some of the female staff members lost for words when he walked the hallway or when he changed in the locker room. That’s what Johanna had told me anyway.

He was beautiful but not my type. He seemed too cocky for my liking and seemed offended that I didn’t throw myself at him.

I had also noticed his love for sugar. Just yesterday I watched him scoop three sugar cubes into his coffee and the sugary sweets hidden in his scrub pockets. He came by during my shift numerous times offering me a wide range of candy and sweets. I declined and turned back to my book.

I wave to them and go directly to my patient’s room. Just like this morning he’s in the same spot. His chest rising and falling. I drop my bag down on one of the chairs and look at him.

His blond hair is unruly and falls in curls over his forehead. Freckles covering the bridge of his nose and his eyelashes long and blond. From memory he had blue eyes but I could be mistaken.

His brother had filled me in over what had happened to his brother. His brother who was the same age as me and now comatose, his life frozen.

6 months ago during a call out to a building fire, he went inside to rescue trapped residents. He guided a family of three out and went back in despite being told it was too unstable. Another member followed him in but they were separated by a falling beam which knocked him unconscious. He was pulled free when his team found him. He hadn’t woken up since that night and had suffered a traumatic brain injury. With doctors operating on him soon after they successfully fixed the damage. There’s still brain activity, he just hasn’t woken up on his own. There was hope but his brother was finding it hard to think he’d ever wake up.

“Hi Peeta, its Katniss here.”

I brush the curls from his forehead and watch the monitors change slightly before going back to how they were before. Nothing too serious to worry about.

My first two days I sat silently beside him. I spoke briefly to him. Introducing myself before engrossing myself in my book and wandering the floor when I got restless sitting there.

Today I felt like I should talk to him more. The human brain was remarkable and in my reading of the response coma patients made towards family, speech and touch proved positive in most cases. He had be deprived of family, speech and gentle caresses for too long.

I pulled my chair close to his bedside and grabbed his hand, pulling it between mine. They were calloused against my smooth skin. Years of hard labour present in his hands. His brother filled me on aspects of his life. The things he loved most, why he became a fireman, what he had been doing since they moved. His favourite colour is a sunset kind of orange. He told me he was a baker. A painter. He likes to sleep with the window open. He never takes sugar in his tea. And he always double-knots his shoelaces.

I had written these details down in my notebook that I dedicated to Peeta. Specific details about him, memories I remembered and clippings of newspaper articles I had found on him. His brother had sent me some paintings, photos and memos I could decorate his room with.

Today I had an email from Rye to read to him, which would go in the notebook. It was a recording of his time in the coma. Things that I could report back to Rye and if he ever woke up, we could recall the happenings of his time while in his state. I pull the letter from the notebook and try to press the folds out.

“Peeta, sorry I’m not there anymore. I couldn’t afford any more time off of work and the family needed me. I couldn’t leave Katie alone. You’re about to become an uncle for the second time very soon. We know it’s a girl and thought we’d share this with you before everyone else. Hopefully by my next letter she’ll be here. Jordan misses you and asks when you’ll come and visit. I told him soon because I hope it will be soon. Remember Katniss? The girl you couldn’t take your eyes off? Well she’s going to look after you for now on. I’ll visit as much as I can but I think you’ll appreciate Katniss’ presence then my own. Sorry for keeping this short. Hopefully I’ll have more words next time. Take care and get better soon. I’ll write the minute your niece is here. I’m sure you’ll love her. Until next time, Rye.”

I fold the letter up and paper clip it to a page.

“I’m sorry I didn’t notice you at school. I was just the type of person who didn’t make friends easy. You intimidated me with your natural presence and the way you could speak so calmly and beautifully. I adored hearing you speak. Your voice was like velvet. So rich and calming it was my favourite thing about English class when you read aloud. It’s the one thing I remember about you so much. Oh and the kiss behind the bike shed on your last day of school. I would never forget that kiss or how I rode home so quickly that afternoon and never turned back.”

The next week I walked through the quiet hospital. My step was giddy with excitement. I couldn’t wait to share the email with Peeta.

I ignored Johanna and Finnick who were throwing M&M’s at each other.

“Hey Peeta.” I took my seat beside him and pulled the email from the notebook. “Hey Peet, guess what? You have a niece. She was born just two hours ago. She’s a lot smaller than Jordan was at birth. She looks a lot like Katie from the shape of her eyes, her nose and her mouth. She has your colour eyes though and very long, blonde eyelashes. We’ve named her Mikayla Rose. I can’t wait until you meet her. I’m just on my way to get Jordan and bring him to the hospital to meet his little sister. I don’t think he’s going to be too pleased he got a sister but I hope he falls in love with her sweetness. Let me tell you, I’ve been through the new baby stage before and I thought I wouldn’t be as excited but I was wrong. I’m so emotional, words can’t describe the feelings. She’s a gem, so precious and sweet. I’m speechless once again. I hope you get to experience this feeling one day Peeta, you’d be a great father. I just know it. Anyway, I’ve got to get Jordan but I’ll be sure to send updates and some pictures for your room. Take care brother.”

It isn’t until I’ve been there a month when I finally take it upon myself to care for him more than a nurse. I sit with him more and talk to him more about myself.

I finally open up to him about my family and what happened when he moved towns.

“My father died a month after you left. He was caught in a robbery and shot dead. My mother basically shut out from the world and I was left to care for Prim. Only 5 years later during the winter of senior year she died. She had a brain aneurism. A ticking time bomb they call it. I tried to wake her up for school and she was unresponsive. She got to the hospital and the doctors confirmed she had died from an aneurism. There was nothing we could do. My mother who had made a lot of progress suddenly feel into her comatose state. She sat in bed, in her own filth for days staring at the ceiling, not moving or speaking. It was bad, I didn’t attend school, I didn’t leave the house. Worst of all Prim’s mangy cat, who had a grudge against me, made me truly mourn her. We mourned her together and he forgave me. I barely managed to graduate high school but I did it and went to college. A lot changed when you left and I sometimes wondered if my life would have been different if you’d be there for me. If we shared more sneaky kisses behind the bike shed and if I gathered up the nerve to talk to you more. I also wonder what would have happened if my father never went to that store. He only went there for cough medicine for me. If I wasn’t sick then maybe he’d still be here today. I wonder a lot which brings the nightmares, I don’t sleep at night. My sleep is plagued with nightmares. I hardly speak to my mother. The neighbour cares for her and I send money to help. She’s more responsive now but is plagued with bad days.”

I stroke his hand while I find the words.

“She has a choice to keep living but she chose to pull away. Which seems unfair because you had no choice in the matter. I know that deep inside you’re trying your hardest to fight the coma and come back to us all.”

His finger moves slightly and I gasp. Some movements were progress.

“You’re trying to come back to me?” I say.

His finger moves again slightly and I wipe the tear before pressing a kiss to his hand.

“Thank you.” I whisper and push the curls from his forehead.

A few days later I find the urge to sing. I hadn’t sung since my father’s death but now I have this urge.

Beside Peeta I hold his hand and open my voice.

I sing a range of songs and hear the wing go silent. People have stopped outside of the room and stare at me wide eyed. I’m suddenly self-conscious that I sounded terrible but Johanna and Finnick walk in clapping their hands. Applauding me for my wonderful voice. I smile shyly and feel Peeta’s hand twitch in between mine.

I take it as a sign he liked it.

The next week things improve. A MRI shows more brain function from 5 weeks ago when I started. He was falling backwards. Slipping away. But now it seemed he had a reason to stick around.

Well that’s what Johanna said.

One night he takes me by surprise as I read to him, he’s fingers link in between mine and they perfectly fit in the space between mine.

I look up to his face but his eyes remained closed. I take the hand holding as a good sign and continue reading with our fingers entwined.

The next night he does the same thing as I read to him. I keep these things to myself because they’re special.

That morning I leave a kiss on his lips and head home. Recalling the feel of his fingers between mine and the softness of his lips.

A few days later a call wakes me asking me to get down to the hospital right away. I dressed as quickly as I could, fearing the worst had happened.

Instead I was met with his eyes looking at me. I go to speak but he beats me.

“Hello Katniss.”

“How’d you know it was me?”

“I could never forget you.” He tells me with a smile.

He doesn’t remain awake for much longer.

I speak with his doctor once he’s asleep and he tells me he’s happy with his progress.

“Did he wake up confused?”

“No.”

“Speech difficulties? Any damage to his body?”

“Katniss, by the looks of things he is perfectly fine. We’ve still got to keep an eye on him and run some tests. He won’t be fully conscious for a few days yet. He’s body is still waking up and during that time we’ll assess any possible damage his body may have and go from there.”

“Does his brother know?”

“Yes. He’s going to catch the first plane here.” He says. “Katniss, we also think Peeta has progressed so well is because of you. He asked for you the moment he woke. There’s a possibility you helped him.”

“I didn’t even do anything.”

“You did a lot.” He says. “And you’re going to be as much help in his recovery now. It’d be best if you stick around.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

I grab myself a coffee and a muffin and go back to his room. In the state of trying to remain awake he mumbles something that gains my attention.

I look at him and his eyes are on me again. He brushes his hand through my hair and comes to rest it on my cheek.

“Stay with me?” He asks.

“Always.” I tell him, placing my hand on his.

He falls asleep soon after and I can’t help but watch him sleep peacefully. He’s free from the coma but still has a while to come yet.

When I wake again Johanna is handing me a coffee. It’s just past 9.

“It’s wonderful news.” She tells me with a smile. “I just hope there’s an opportunity for the two of you now.” I scowl and she leaves the room with a smirk.

The following days are spent watching him. He wakes occasionally during that time and speaks a few words before he falls asleep again. I remain bedside so he has a familiar face when he wakes.

Rye arrives with his family during those few days and he wakes for Rye a couple of times. The longest time he remains awake is when he meets his niece. Rye holds the baby in front of him and he touches her cheeks softly and introduces himself telling her he’ll make up for the moments his missed.

When he sees his nephew again he responds well and briefly talks to the boy. Rye tells Jordan they’ll come by tomorrow to visit, he needs his rest.

That night Peeta has eaten his first meal in almost 8 months. When he gives up on the bland food he pats the space beside him on the bed. I kick my shoes off and climb in beside him.

“So what do you remember?” I ask him.

“I remember hearing your voice. It was like I was locked somewhere, trying to get out to reach your voice. The closer I got to waking up, the closer your voice was.” He says softly. “Did you sing to me?”

“A few times.” I tell him with a shy smile.

“I thought so. It sounded like the voice of an angel.”

I blush and he entwines his fingers in between mine.

“I just knew there was something more and the more I tried the closer your voice was. I just had to see the owner of the voice, if it was only once in my life.”

We fall asleep together that night.

Two weeks after he woke he's doing things by himself slowly. He’s using the toilet by himself and feeding himself. We’ve also started to take short walks through the ward.

I stay with him most of the day now and usually fall asleep in a cot beside him or in bed with him.

This one night while playing cards he stops in the middle of our game.

“Your turn.” I tell him. But he doesn’t answer. “Peeta?” I say looking up at him.

“Do you know what happened to my parents and brother?” I shake my head.

A sense of wonder had crossed my mind but I thought I’d leave him to tell me.

“It’s part of the reason why we moved away. We moved to be closer to my grandfather. He had dementia and no one to look after him. We’d been living there for about 3 year. I was 14 when I went with Rye down to the skate park. My eldest brother was headed home from college to visit. My father went to go pick him up from the station and when they got home our house was well and truly on fire. They think my grandfather forgot about turning the stove on and they think a tea towel was next to the stovetop which just became fuel and the whole kitchen went up fast. When my father and brother returned they went in to try and rescue my mother and grandfather but the roof caved in trapping them inside. There was nothing the fire brigade could do to save them.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“It’s much like my accident, only I was lucky enough to escape. I blamed myself for a long while after their deaths. If only I had been there watching my grandfather, then maybe I could have extinguished the fire or stopped him. It haunts my nightmares till this day.”

“I understand. I blamed myself for the years after my father’s and Prim’s deaths. I just wished I wasn’t sick that day. I blamed my mother also for sending my father so late. I resented her for sending him to his death. I still resent her to this day for shutting out the world and doing nothing. She had two children who needed looking after but never bothered. My best friend had to talk me through puberty because my mother didn’t. Do you know how embarrassing it was to have her talk me through it? I had to grow up so quickly after my father’s death, I just didn’t realise menstrual cycles would be part of it.”

He chuckles slightly. “I remember I studied your appearance for that last week before I left. I mean I noticed everything about you but I truly made sure I remembered you. I can recall that day, the day we kissed behind the bike shed that your shirt had swell, only slightly but enough to be the start of your breasts.”

“We were eleven.” I say embarrassed.

“I still noticed them. I wanted to remember everything about you. I didn’t know if I’d ever see you again. When I got older and my body changed. I imagined you often, how’d you look then. If you had grown curvier with the changes to your body. I just imagined everything really and some embarrassing things I don’t want to tell you about.” He says looking down at his hands before looking back at me. “I used to close my eyes and imagine you were there with me.”

I smile and place my cards down on the roll away table and push it away from the bed before moving towards him.

“Close your eyes.” I tell him.

He closes his beautiful ocean eyes and I sit down close to him. My hip pressed against his. Our legs touching.

“Now open them.” I whisper. He opens his eyes and I smile at him. “I’m right here. No more imagining me. I’m the real thing.” I tell him placing my hand to rest on his cheek.

Our eyes lock for a long moment. I see the freckles on the bridge of his nose. The long, blond eyelashes. How calming his blue eyes are. Calming like the sea.

His throat bobs and all I can hear is his heartbeat and his breathing getting heavy in the anticipation. My heartbeat picks up and I trace the curve of his soft cheek with my hand, bringing it to rest on his chest. I can smell the aftershave and soap he used earlier. The flowers by his bed create an intoxicating smell.

He places his hand on my neck and rests his other hand on my hip that steadies me against him and pulls me close to him. His lips are soft against mine. The warmth of his mouth sent a current through my body and I got lost in the chocolate breath and soft lips.

We pull apart. His mouth curves upwards as does mine. His cheeks are slightly blushed. My skin tingles and I feel his hands still anchoring me close to him.

“Better than our first kiss.” He finally says.

“We were eleven.” I tell him with a smirk.

“That we were.”

The next day he asks to go outside and feel the warmth of the sun on his skin. He needed to breathe the fresh air and hear the birds chirping or just the sound of traffic.

I help him put his pants on and his shoes. They bring him a wheelchair but he says he wants to walk.

I carry his phone and he links his arm through mine. Steadying himself with my hand. We walk slowly down the hallway and to the garden near the waiting room.

“You alright?” I ask him.

He nods and smiles at me and we head outside. The moment he feels the sun on his skin and smells the fresh air I capture the moment. It’s like a child discovering something amazing for the first time. The look of a baby as they finally learn how to walk. It’s the look of stepping off the plane into a new country and experiencing it for the first time.

And right now, Peeta is experiencing the outdoors after 8 months, trapped in the stale hospital air and his bed.

And in that moment I see the glint of a tear roll down his cheek in pure happiness.

He kicks off his shoes and lets his feet touch the ground. I can’t help the emotions and wipe the tears from my own eyes.

He turns to me with a huge smile. His eyes full of life. He reaches for my hand and pulls me close to him. He wraps his arm around my shoulder and presses a kiss to my cheek.

“Thank you.” He whispers against my cheek.

He takes the phone from me and together we pose together. He can’t help but kiss me just as he takes the photo.

We eat lunch in the garden together. I pick at the dandelions and he plays with my hair. His hands still and I look up at him.

“Will you sing for me?” I nod and sing for him.

It isn’t until after we return to his room where he tells me, “You know, the birds fall silent when they listen to you?”

“They used to fall silent when my father sang too.” He smiles at me and I can’t help but return the smile.

A week later he turns to me in the darkness of the night. His voice a mere whisper.

“Katniss, are you awake?”

“Hmm.”

“Will you go out on a date with me?”

I still for a moment.

“Katniss?”

I move from his chest and look at him. “I thought we had already been on a date?”

“I mean a proper one. One where I take you to dinner, we chat over candlelight and share forkfuls of our dessert. One where I pick you up from your place and drop you home. One where I bring you flowers and give you my coat if you get cold and hold the door open for you. One where we may take a walk in the nightlife and end up somewhere unknown and watch the stars.” He says. “I want to take you on a proper date.”

I silence him with a kiss.

“When?” I ask him.

“When I’m discharged.” “

Okay, I’ll go out on a date with you.”

We share a quick kiss before I curl on his chest and fall asleep.

The more time I spend with him, the more my heart flutters. For the few hours I duck home to shower, put a load of washing on and change into clean clothes is the hardest as I long to be with him. He even tells me how much he misses me when I’m gone. Even though it’s for a few hours.

I always wondered what being in love was like. Now, I knew what it was like to be in love.

I was in love with me best friend and there was no better feeling.

A few days later the doctor signs his discharge papers happily telling him to go home. He checked all the boxes of good health and recovery and they thought it’d be best he returned home to finish off his recovery.

We packed up his room and walked to my car. He slid into the passenger seat and I sat behind the wheel.

“Home?” I ask him.

“Home.”

I drive in the direction of his home. Little did he know we were neighbours.

“Wait how do you know where I live?” He asks. I shrug my shoulders and pull up in the apartment lot garage. “You can’t park here if you’re not a resident.”

“But I am.” I tell him. “I’m your neighbour Peeta.”

“What?” He says.

“I’ve lived here for 6 months. That’s how Rye found me.”

“Really? I just thought he hired you through an agency?”

“No. I ran into him one day, we got to talking and he told me about you and how he needed to find a caretaker. I offered and showed him my credentials and he hired me straight away. He knew I’d be good for your recovery.”

Peeta smiles at me and I help him out of the car.

Once all his belongings are brought to his room and he’s wandering around his house, touching the furniture, looking at the paintings on his wall and familiarising himself with his apartment, I watch him as I unpack his bags.

“That can wait.” He says placing his hands on mine. “Come, sit down.”

He pulls me to the couch and pulls me to his lap. He cups my face with his hand and runs his hand up and down my back.

This time when his lips meet mine I feel the intensity of his touch. We were finally alone without anyone able to interrupt us. He isn’t careful where he rests his hands or how he sneaks them underneath my shirt. The hunger overtakes us and I feel the heat coil in my belly as my body responds. The warmth spreads to my tips of my fingers and toes and I feel alive. This kiss does nothing to satisfy my want, instead it fuels my desires.

He lays me down on the couch and hovers over me, gaining more access to my body. His lips move to my neck and he hits my pulse point.

“Peeta?” I say.

“Hmm?” he murmurs between kisses.

“I love you.” I tell him.

He stops and looks up at me, sheer joy in his eyes. He pulls me to sit and a mile wide smile is pressed on his lips.

“Really?” I nod.

“Really.” I say. “I love you.” I say smiling. “I’ve never been so sure about something in my entire life.”

He kisses me quickly and pulls away. “I love you too. I’ve loved you the minute I met you. I loved you from the first time I heard you sing. I knew I loved you the minute we kissed behind the bike shed. I’ve loved you for so long and now, after everything you’ve done for me. I love you even more and I’ll continue to love you for the rest of our time.”

After that I never go home to sleep. I stay with him, not wanting to miss another moment together. I give him the notebook and from the first morning spent at home I give him the notebook to read.

A year later I stand before him in a white dress. Few family and friends join us. It doesn’t matter because we have each other. We speak our vows, declare our love for one another and sign our names.

Later that night after too much cake and dancing we fall into bed together not bothering to change from our clothes. I grab Peeta’s hand and bring it to rest on my stomach.

“The reason I didn’t drink champagne tonight.” I tell him. “We’re having a baby.” And in that moment, just like the day spent in the garden I see him fall in love all over again. I see his eyes light up. He looks at me with adoration and love, my own heart melts under his gaze.

In an instant my belly is exposed to him and his mouth places a thousand kisses on my flat stomach and the first promise of loving the child who grows inside of me.

His quiet footsteps sound down the hallway late that night.

* * *

The house was quiet. I liked the quiet, especially the quiet of the night. He walked into our bedroom. Only the light from a lamp lit the room. He smiled when he spied me on the bed and crossed the room as quietly as he could.

“Is she alright?” I ask him.

“Yeah, she’s perfect.” He tells me. “Just wanted a kiss goodnight.”

I smile and look down at the newborn nursing from my breast. His small fingers wrapped around my finger. Peeta brushes the downy blond hairs on his crown and places the softest of kisses on his crown.

I smiled and thought about the last five years. I thought about the day I met him after more than 15 years apart. How he laid in his hospital bed trying to get to me. How quickly he responded to me and came back to me. How quickly we became friends and soon fell in love with each other.

I didn’t have any more nightmares. I could sleep at night now. His arms kept away the nightmares and if I was restless a kiss would settle me.Just like how a kiss pressed to our daughter’s forehead would settle her down for the night. How the softness of my voice would calm my son.

We were happy. I now enjoyed the quiet of the night now just to study my children. Watch their even breaths and watch them peacefully sleep.

I enjoyed the quiet of the night to sleep soundly in my husband’s arms.


End file.
